A Fork In the Road
by candlelightandwhisky
Summary: Life will often lead you on a twisty path, full of choices and decisions. Some of the roads you may be forced to take,but only you can make the choices once lead down that road. What will Ponyboy do when taken from his brothers; he must make changes, but will he turn out for the better...or the worse?
1. Chapter 1

Angling myself over the pool table, I adjusted the cue and took the shot. The ball rolled striking its intended target into the correlating hole. Smiling, I caught eyes with Slider, sharing a smirk. Picking up my beer from the table behind me I turned to the cowboys we had been playing against all night.

"Your turn boys." I drawled out. The smug smile, still hanging on my lips.

The older of the two, probably late twenties by the look of him, approached. He had a roll of chewing tobacco hanging from his lip, I mentally cringed I couldn't stand chew. Quickly approached me, his eyes narrowed.

"You been hustling us boy?" I took a step away to distance myself from the enraged man. I didn't need to turn around to know that Slider was coming around the other side of the table to back me up. He always had my back.

Taking a firmed hold of the pool cue incase I needed to use it for a weapon, I slanted my posture: shoulders back, chin up and balanced my weight so I could move quickly if I needed too. I knew I had a good build for a kid my age, and in this moment I was trying to use that to my advantage to intimidate the older man. At sixteen I could take on a lot of people twice my age, I had before. If I still gave a damn about school I would probably fit in great on the football team. I had been in track for a little while my freshman year before everything fell apart.

I tried to keep my voice calm and laid back, imitating Paul Newman or James Dean or any number of the tuff hoods I had grown up around. This was a pretty rough bar and I didn't want trouble if I could avoid it. Besides we had a pretty good set up with the bartender: he let us in to do our thing and in return we gave him a cut of the profits.

"Naw man, just warming up I guess."

Before I could react the blond cowboy grabbed the collar of my shirt, wrenching me closer to his face the odor of beer ,spit and sweat assaulting my nose. "I don't believe you kid."

I slammed my fist into the side of his face. Successfully getting him to let me go and jammed the end of the pool stick into his gut. This caused him to hunch over, but I still did not get the result I wanted. Head down like an angry bull he rammed strait into my mid section, sending us both sprawling backwards so I was sprawled onto the pool table behind me. I tried kicking upward to leverage myself upwards and get the man off. A white hot pain suddenly exploded in my abdomen, eyes widening with agony I watched numbly as Slider jumped onto the back of the cowboy, grabbing him into a choke hold trying to pull him off. I made a strange sort of gurgling sound. I thought to warn him about the second cowboy coming up behind but the world got sort of hazy. All I could do was stare at the blood drenching my t-shirt and the knife bobbling out of my stomach. 'This is how Bob must have felt.' Was the last conscious thought I had.


	2. Chapter 2

**Do not own S.E Hinton's _The Outsiders_**

Chapter One

I stared blankly from my bench as I watched people walk by busily, everyone it seemed has somewhere to go, and something to do. Hardly anyone stopped to notice the sixteen year old kid sitting handcuffed to the bench. Then again, I supposed that was probably a common enough sight for them to see at two in the morning at the Oklahoma City police station.

I sighed stretching out my legs, my left side gave a throb and I winced. It had only been three weeks back that I had been stabbed, and the area was still pretty soar. Stitches hadn't even been removed yet, though I had to admit to myself I had been pretty lucky the knife has luckily avoided anything vital. I yawned, wondering how much longer this was going to take. I just wanted to get the too familiar process of the booking over with so they would take me back to one of the cells and I could get some sleep. I couldn't sleep much anymore. Hell ,if I wanted to be honest with myself I hadn't slept much in years. The only times I slept more than a couple hours strait was under the effects of alcohol. I remembered a time when I wanted nothing to do with the stuff, now sometimes it seems that's all that helps.

Smiling to myself I thought 'If only the boys could see me now. They wouldn't believe it was their quiet little sensitive Ponyboy sitting here." I wanted to hit myself. Don't think about them don't! You know damn strait they ain't thinking about you! I felt the angry heat growing inside me, a hardness building in my chest. I wonder if this is the kind of hate that built and formed the angry young man of Dallas Winston. I remember a time I couldn't understand him, even disliked him. Now I wanted nothing more than to be him. The same cold indifference that he personified I wanted to become. No pain.

"Well,well,well Ponyboy fancy seeing you here again. What's it been? Three month? That must be some sort of record for you boy." I looked up into the ugly face of Officer Ramsey. He was a bigger man, with a potbelly that extended well over his belt, a weathered sun beaten face grinning crudely down at me. I looked over his uniform for the food stain that always lingered somewhere on him. I found it on his right breast pocket. It was red.

I didn't like him and I sure as hell didn't respect him. Though I ask you to show me a hood that did like a cop. However, Kenton Ramsey wasn't as bad as a lot of his fellow co- workers. If he picked you up he wouldn't pull over on a side street to work you over before bringing you down to the station. Too lazy for that.

I looked at him and shrugged, I closed my eyes again hoping that he would take the hint and leave me alone. My side was throbbing still and a headache was starting to creep up behind my eyes. Lady luck was not with me that night however, because he kept going:

"Didn't you just get out of the reformatory ? Hasn't even a month , They're not going to let you off so easy this time you know kid. Keep on with this record and you'll end up in McAlister for good before your eighteen."

"Kent, shut the fuck up." I growled out between clinched teeth. He growled out something about no good, punk kids, before kicking out at my outstretched legs, the sudden movement jerking my side and an icy pain filled my whole body for a moment. If I hadn't been sitting down, I thought I would have passed out it hurt so bad.

Before I could retaliate the cop who busted us the time approached :"Alright Curtis, you're up."


	3. Chapter 3

**Do Not Own _The Outsiders,_**

Chapter 2

Darry's P.O.V

Sitting at the kitchen table I sighed, sealing the envelope addressed to the state. Every three to six months since the state had taken Pony away, I sent the same pleading letter as well as a record of my employment status and paystubs. After the hearing from the murder trial, the state had decided that I did not have the financial ability to take care of two teenage boys. Since Soda was almost seventeen and a drop out besides, with a stable job they left him with me. Pony they had taken.

The look he gave me as the officers of the court led him away is forever engraved upon my mind, hurt and betrayal in his eyes. I know he thought that it was my fault. That I had chosen to give him up, though as I clutched him to me one last time I swore to him that I would get him back. He didn't believe me, but I could still see a small glimmer of hope, hiding behind his gaze as my little brother tried not to cry. Greasers don't cry in public. Soda was inconsolable though, I had not seen him so distraught since our parents funeral, or perhaps that week Pony and Johnny were gone in Windrixville.

I poured another cup of coffee, he was right not to believe me. Two years, two years since I had seen my baby brother. Even now I could not believe it. Neither ,Soda nor I had had any contact with him in the last year in a half, all our letters sent back or the ones that may have reached him never replied too. That did not stop Soda however, my happy go lucky brother who hated sitting still and doing anything along the lines of writing or reading, religiously every two weeks set down and wrote a letter to Ponyboy, always sending them via the social worker.

I knew Pony absence and then furthermore his absolute refusal see and or talked to us was killing Soda. They had always been close, from the moment Pony was born Soda had treated his role as a big brother as a sacred commandment from god. I knew there was more too it then that, he absolutely adored that kid and in return Pony hero worshipped the ground Soda walked on. That's why I still couldn't believe his refusal to communicate with him. Me I could understand, I was the monster that let him get taken away. But soda?

For the first few months he was gone we kept in contact regularly. Pony sending us new addresses when he relocated and responding to our letters, even the occasional phone call for the first few months he was gone. Then there was a period where our letters got returned unopened and we figured he switched homes again and would write us again soon. That never happened, we panicked contacting his social worker who assured us he was alright and promised to deliver the letters next time she saw him. A week after that we got a letter from him telling us he wanted nothing more to do with us, it was obvious we didn't really care about him and to forget we ever had a brother because he was done with us.

Soda lost it going directly to the lady at social services and demanding to see Pony. Of course, she refused so after begging, pleading and even downright threatening. He had to settle for the letters. I think they became his only solance, a form of therapy, even if Pony never read a single damn letter it was a way for Soda to feel as though he could still talk to his little brother.

Since Pony was taken, Soda has never quite been the same. Sure in public and around the boys he was is normal happy go lucky joking self but occasionally, when his guard was down and he thought no one was watching him I would see it slip. While Two-Bit was telling a loud rowdy story, or a poker game was getting heated, The laughing man face would dissolve into an empty casing, his eyes turning lost and pain filled, the ever present smile that lingered around his lips slipping, so that he looked much older than his eighteen years, so that you could see what a toll life had really taken on him. Then in a flash when attention was on him again, the jovial smile was back on his face laugh lines evident and cracking jokes as always. I think Steve was the only other one who would catch the switch, and perhaps Johnny.

After the fire and resulting accident, Johnny had moved in with us. At the trial he had been acquitted of all charges ,the jury had been moved by his act of heroism or they took pity on the cripple kid in the wheelchair but Johnny got out without ever spending a night in a jail cell. Though now I suppose his confinement to the chair was prison enough. Dally was his ever faithful companion, after Pony was gone he seemed to take it upon himself to fill that void in Johnny's life. Spending hours every day sitting on the fount porch just talking to him or pushing him around, taking him down to Jay's or the Dingo for a coke. Who would have though the stone cold hard criminal, who bragged boisterously about his rap sheet and had been in and out of the cooler most his life turned into a all American golden boy around small quiet Johnny Cade. Dally even took him to his doctor appointments and though he would never admit it didn't actively go looking for trouble as much. No doubt in concern for Jonny's well being.

"Darry, have you seen my work shirt anywhere?" Soda yelled breaking me out of my thoughts.

"On the close line!" I replied. A few months back Soda had left the DX and was now working full time at an auto mechanic shop down town, that paid much better. Though he would complain loudly that there wasn't nearly as much action there as at the DX. However, the few times I had visited him at work I had noticed that a lot of house wives seemed to be having trouble with their cars as of late. Most of them from the south side of town.

Steve was still working at the DX having graduated he was now working full time and was a one man machine, they had not even bothered to hire a second mechanic to replace Soda yet. Though this did not seem to bother Steve at all. Soda and him had big plans to open their own mechanic shop a few years down the line, they even had an investor; a regular at the DX who had been taking his car to them for years.

I heard the shower turn on and knew Soda would be ready to go soon. The squeaking sound of Johnny's wheelchair from the living room drew my attention, then a _kirplunk_.

"Shit." I muttered to myself getting up to go help. Usually we tried to keep the place pretty tidy and open. We had a small house but we were able to rearrange furniture and make small adjustments here and there so Johnny was able to navigate it by himself pretty well. Last night though there had been a wrestling match between Two-Bit and Steve and the furniture had gotten knocked out of order. We all tried to go out of our way to make things as simple as possible for Johnny. Right after he had first moved in with us we had even added a wheelchair ramp to our house (paid for by Dally, though we never questioned where he got the cash). Surprisingly though Johnny never seemed to need much help, he was able to pretty much look after himself. He was even a participant in a study by a doctor at the area hospital who was studying nerve and spinal damage. He believed that with the right nerve stimuli applied to the impact of the spinal damage there was a chance he may be able to regain feeling in his legs again and with that, the possibility of movement with them. We all supported him, though none of us was very hopeful for the results.

As I entered the room I saw Johnny was pinned into his small room that use to belong to me before I took over mom and dad's old room. Moving the recliner back against the wall to create a path I asked: " Ya all right there Johnnycakes?" I noticed him cringe slightly. He hated to feel like an invalid.

"Ya I'm good man. Hey has Dally been around this morning? He promised to take me around looking for work today." I tried to control my grimace. Johnny had decided that he needed to work to help pay the bills since he lived with us. I don't know where he got the idea that he needed too. In all honesty we were doing pretty well at the moment. With Soda's new job and I got promoted to a manger position for Oak Collins roofing last year so I was able to leave my second job. Heck, I had even started taking a couple night classes at the local community college. I never realized before how stubborn Johnny could be once he got his mind set on something. Maybe that's why Pony and him had been such good friends, Though Pony refused to even talk to him anymore even everything they had been threw together.

"Haven't seen him yet today kid." Where on earth this kid though he was going to get a job at was way beyond me. Who was going to hire some cripple teen who could not lift, grab or pick up anything that was out of range of his chair, and who could not do much reading, writing or arithmetic beyond the minimal expected amount. I'm not saying he wasn't smart just no Pony when it came to school.

"That's alright he'll be in latter today anyway. I know, He promised." And that was that, if Dally made Johnny a promise then it would happen.

Walking in on the last bit of the conversation a freshly showered Soda, still towel drying his hair piped up: "Where all you planning on going?"

"Everywhere I guess, until I find someone who is willing to give me a try, I ain't too picky."

"You know with all the extra work Steve has picked up, I bet old man Wilcock may need some extra help behind the counter at the DX. He still ain't talking to me right now but I bet if Steve put's in a good word…" he trailed off.

An excited grin spread across Johnny's face. "Glory Soda, ya think? Damn man that would be perfect!"

That actually was a great idea, old man Wilcock had known Johnny his entire life and if anyone was willing to give him a chance I bet it would be him.

"Now don't get your hopes up too much kid, but let's put it to Steve tonight and see what he thinks." The excited grin never left Johnny's face however.

Yep, we're all doing pretty good, except for the empty black hole that never completely left us, which was the missing space of our baby brother.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

With a sigh, Ponyboy flopped over on his cot, the small thin mattress bulging up and jabbing him in the fresh bruise on his ribs from the guards baton. It didn't really bother him though. In the past he had slept in much worse places, much worse. His cell mates were all asleep, there were three other boys. A big seventeen year old country boy named Jimmy, with brown hair and watery dull brown eyes to match snored loudly across the cell. Not once in the two months they had bunked together had any spark of intelligent thought ever showed themselves from that kid. Jimmy had gotten busted for trying to knock over his local-one horse town supply store, no surprise he never even left the store before the store clerk banged him over the head with a two by four next to the cash register. The guy in the bunk above me was named Chris but everyone called him Ratchet. He was loud, liked to smart mouth the trustees and stir up a fight whenever he could. The only thing that seemed to worry him was his blond hair and the fact that his time in here was time he was wasting on not getting laid. So all in all, your typical hood. He was picked up while stealing the radios out of police cruisers. Our newest cell mate was just a kid, he was thirteen, probably not even 100lbs and got caught shoplifting food. His dad had left and he has four younger siblings, he cried himself to sleep every night for the first week he was here. We had started calling him shadow because no matter where you were, you could always find him back against the wall trying hard not to be seen.

I tried to keep an eye on the kid and I knew Ratchet tried to do the same, it wasn't right them throwing a little kid in here with guys like us, with guys as cold and hard as Dally and Tim Shepard. Then there were always those who liked to pick and beat up on the little ones just because they could.

I flipped over again, trying to close my eyes; I needed to sleep, tomorrow was going to be long and tiring. I knew they were going to have us digging irrigation ditches again. It was hard exhausting work but I couldn't help looking forward to it. Slider and I were on the same work group along with my childhood friend Curley Shepard. These work day's were about the only times I got to see them, they learned quick to keep us separated. When the three of us got together trouble just seemed to follow, we just couldn't help it we were constantly screwing around making loud dirty jokes or back each other up in fights.

I had been pleasantly surprised when I got in here and found Shepard. Cool, tough and rowdy, Curley Shepard was cut from the same cloth as his older brother only a year older than me and I think he has already spent most of his teenage life in here. He was on first name bases with most of the guards. He was in for a four month stent after busting a beer bottle over some guys head at Rusty's drive threw. It was a former SOC hangout, though apparently the greaser population had started creeping over there in the last couple years since I had left. Apparently a lot had changed since I left.

I let a smile hang on my face thinking of his reaction when he had seen me. "Hell, man I wouldn't even recognize you if I didn't hear your name. You still kinda look the same but man, you've changed." And it was true. The Ponyboy Curtis who looked at sunsets and drew pictures and day dreamed was gone. It seemed like so long ago, I couldn't even recognize that same person as me now. I'm not saying it was good or bad but life changes you, and that's just how it was.

My thoughts drifted to Slider, my best friend, we had been through thick and thin. After I had been taken to the boy's home I had to stay there for a month to "adjust" before being placed into my first foster home. It was at that first foster home I had met Slider. He was a grease too and that made us instant friends, someone to relate too. His laughing care free eyes, with easy grins and smooth jokes had reminded me so much of Soda at the time. He had been in the system for awhile ;his mom died when he was real young and both his pop and older brother where in prison.

We were located at some podunk farm in the middle of nowhere. I had always thought I wanted to be in the country but my time in Windrixville killed that, and what little hope and fondness was left was killed at the McLarkin farm. After that experience I never wanted to go to the country again. The McLarkin's didn't have any kids of their own so they opened their home, and their wallets to take in us poor foster kids and give us a chance to experience life on a farm. Yeah right. They took us in for free manual labor. McLarkin was a mean, god fearing old man, who ruled with an iron hand and was stricter than a lot of the guards here at the reformatory. He didn't take lip from nobody, who was quick to raise his voice and fist to anyone in the immediate area when pissed off. Unfortunately for us, Slider and I seemed to raise his ire a lot and in recompense we ended up sleeping in the barn to avoid a fight. Or maybe it was to drink the hooch we scored played cards against the neighbors kids.

Either way, at about my third week there, McLarkin came out to the barn early one morning, before the sun was even up and found me still drunker than hell, hanging from one of the wooden beams trying to kick the cow into a smaller pen for milking. Still smelling the alcohol on me I suppose he grabbed a shovel hanging off the wall we used to dig post holes, and like a knight with a sword, brought it down against the back of my heard as though to behead me. The sharp rigged edge catching the base of my skull and angling downward across the neck. To this day I still can't believe how lucky I was for it not to have killed me.

Anyway, after that blow I was out. Slider who had seen the whole thing from his vantage point sleeping in the hay loft told me the rest: said the old man had raised the shovel again to hit me and Slider who had already started descending as soon as he saw McLarkin coming jumped down the rest of the way and put himself between the shovel and me. The shovel cut him deep across the forearms, where he had them raised trying to block the blow as best he could. When the old man raised the damn shovel again Slider said he tackled him knocking him full speed a post and knocking him out cold. Dragging me the best he could he hotwired the old ragged work truck and hightailed us out of there.

All I remember is coming to and seeing red. There was blood everywhere, Sliders and mine all mixed together to created a scene from some horror movie. I remember looking up through the foggy haze that was my vision and seeing Slider staring down, grinning like a maniac. "So you're not dead after all." He said with a wide grin.

Since that moment we have been best buddies. There is no living threw that and being anything but. As my traitorous mind was starting to drift into sleep deeply repressed thoughts began to resurface. A dead kid in a wine colored sweater, a young kid with big black eyes hiding out in an old abandon church, southern gentlemen, dying gallantly, fire. I shook my head trying to clear it of those thoughts. Don't think, don't remember I told myself. A voice whispered in my subconscious seemed to reply as I drifter off into sleep…"Don't forget…" as I slept memories and faces danced in my head, a whisper of breath escaping me came out sounding strangely like "Soda…"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

We shouldn't be here; we should not be at this party. Where future and even past convicts, were drinking, laughing, wrestling in the yard. Looking over at the keg, I could see the start of a fight brewing between two young greasers. I stood up finishing my drink, dismissing myself from the conversation of a couple guys from Shepards outfit. I walked inside toward the poker game where I knew I would find Soda and Steve. Walking up behind him I could tell Soda actually had a pretty decent hand. I stood there and watched them play for a bit, I felt someone approach me on my right side. Glancing over I looked at Tim Shepard a cigarette hanging out of his mouth he was staring at the game as well, without really seeing it.

Speaking to me while never letting his eyes leave the poker table he casually mentioned. "Spoke to Curley the other day, lil' shits back in reform school for the next few months."

"Yeah? What did he do this time?" I asked back in the same casual tone. I wasn't surprised, that kid was always in for something. When they were little I use to worry the Pony hanging out with him so much like he did would start leading him into trouble. I needn't have worried though Pony was a smart kid, even if he never did use his head. Once Curley started getting into real trouble it seemed like their friendship kind of fizzled out. They still talked and buddied around together but they were never really close like they were before.

I was trying to figure out why Shepard was telling me this, we were not exactly what you would call friends, there was no amnesty between us but there was nothing in common with us either.

"Busted a bottle over some hippies head." That sounded like a Shepard thing to do. "He mentioned something interesting to me though, says he's on the same work crew as your brother."

Nothing. That's what I felt, he said the words but they didn't make sense. Soda worked at an auto shop. I stared blankly at Shepard. He must have got that I didn't understand. He continued his voice calm, casual so though he was talking slowly as though he was backing up from an angry bear.

"Say he thought the kid was tough before, after they killed that soc but you wouldn't believe him now. Says even hardly even recognized him as the same guy. Apparently they got into a yard fight the other day and Pony knock out three guys cold before anyone could even so much as take a swing at him." He said all this without even one looking in my direction. How could somebody lie so coldly like that without even so much as breaking a sweat?

I stood there waiting for the punch line, my jaw clinched I could feel the muscle working over time twitching. My icy gaze must have finally penetrated Tim because he slowly turned his head to make eye contact. "From what I understand from Dallas, you haven't had much contact from the kid since that whole court fiasco."

The poker game must have broken up because I suddenly became aware of the silence that was slowly spreading and filling the group, Soda and Steve had stopped cussing each other out and the smiles had left their faces. I realized it must have looked like me and Tim was about to have a knock down, blow out fight. All the attention in the room was on us.

I finally though of something to say. "Are you sure?" Curley and Pony had grown up together; there would be no reason to lie about something like this. I knew that there was no way it could be a case of mistaken identity either, it just didn't make sense.

"I ain't deaf Curtis. Just passing the word along. Ya dig?" I nodded, if I kept with this line of questioning it would do no use except to piss Shepard off and then no doubt, the fight would indeed happen.

"What did you say about Pony?" Soda asked slowly his gaze fixed looking up at Tim from his position still seated at the table.

I placed a hand on Soda's shoulder, whether to offer his support or myself I wasn't sure. Making sure I kept my voice calm and steady a perfect imitation of Tim's I told him.

" Looks like Pony's in the cooler with Curly, little buddy." He was really getting too old for me to keep calling him that. As he had reminded me countless times over the last few years. Telling me it sounded like an insult to his manhood.

I watched as his face drained of color his features twisted into disbelief.

"The kid? Naw, No way man." Steve interjected, looking back and forth between me and Tim as though waiting for the punch line. I couldn't help. I was waiting for it too.

Tim took a long swig killing his beer. " I just know what I told you man, do with the information what you will. Apparently it's not the first time the kids been in there though."

He turned away making his way back into the other room, where the loudest music was emitting from. My brain felt as though it was in a fog as I turned away and walked out the door and turned down the street. I hardly noticed the pounding of feet as a confused looking Steve and a chalk white Soda caught up with me.

"It can't be true man. There's just no way. It's got to be a misunderstanding or something right?" Soda rushed. Was he trying to convince me or himself? "Darry, what are we going to do man?"

Turning down the street I walked up toward our empty house, Johnny must be somewhere with Dally.

"First, thing I'm going to do is call that damn social worker."


	6. Chapter 6

**Do Not Own S.E Hinton's _The Outsiders_**

Alright guys, its a short one if you want more your going to have to review. Also, if there is anyone out there willing to Beta...

Chapter 5

The gang had all heard the news by the time I had finished making calls that morning. The general census throughout the group was there must be some mistake. Coming out of the kitchen into the living room all the conversations stopped. I had everyone's attention now even Dally, his icy gaze meeting mine. Two-Bit was sprawled across the recliner, reeking of a bar and still slightly drunk he seemed to be under the impression the whole thing was a joke. I hoped he was right. Dallas lazed sprawled in the corner of the couch, next to him Johnny, who was pale and looking determinedly at the floor as though it would spew up the answers we all wanted. Steve and Soda were on the floor using the front of the couch as a back rest and they all just sat there. Staring at me, waiting for answers I couldn't give them.

"It turns out Ponyboy has a different case worker for the past year, who won't be in the office until Monday. I left a message with the receptionist to have her call me as soon as she could but it looks like we may have the weekend to kill and wait."

"A different case worker? Do you think maybe that's why he hasn't answered any of out letters? Maybe the old one kept getting them and…." I slowly shook my head I hated to crush Soda's hope but it didn't seem plausible. I noticed the expression on Steve's face. He had never practically liked Pony but after having to live through the painful emotional roller coaster Soda has been on in the last few years I truly believed he possibly hated him now.

"Buddy, the letters were still always addressed to Ponyboy." Something flickered across his face before is casual crooked smile graced his lips, the same one that made the women flock to him for miles.

"Well then I'll just have to go down in person to talk some sense into the little shit. We know where he is at least now. Like to see him avoid me in a locked room." I opening stared at him in wonder. I had never even though to go down and possibly visit Pony.

"Maybe you do use your head for something besides growing hair on after all." I murmured ducking the pillow being hurled at me from the couch.

Sweat poured off, of him. His skin aching from the burn the sun had left on him. Literally cooking him. The rhythmic pattern was steady however, stab, lift, and throw, raising the shovel again and again. This was the eighth day strait they had been out here, and blisters and soars had long callused upon his hands. Pausing Pony tried wiping the sweat running like a stream from his forehead, catching eyes as he did so with Curly he grinned. The tough hood smirked back, a shadow of a bruise still along the line of his jaw. He had been jumped in the yard a weeks ago, luckily it was one of the rare occasions Pony had been outside at the same time. The two of them were easily able to hold their own from the group who had jumped him. However, with minuets the whole yard had turned into a fight ring everyone who had a beef to settle using the opportunity to act. The whole place had been on a strict lock down for three days after that.

One of the trustees saw him standing there and with an ugly scowl, started heading in his directing. Pausing and making eye contact, he made a show out of stretching before returning to his previous task. The guard slowed, Pony wasn't like Slider and Curly who went out of their way to antagonize the guards, but he wasn't going to let them walk all over him either. If nothing else, he still had his pride, if nothing else.

Suddenly breaking through the grunts and swears and shoveling of the boys a sudden shout pierced the air. A shout he recognized all too well. Dropping the shovel and running as fast as though shot from a cannon, Ponyboy bee lined it toward Slider and the figure on the ground with massive rock being hurled down toward their skull.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

It was early Sunday morning; I was drinking coffee in the living room, sitting back in the recliner reading the text from my English lit class. A noise drew my attention as Sodapop walked in, his hair a mess from sleep, shirtless. At first I wondered what had woken him, he was not naturally an early riser and the shop was closed today. Then I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept great the last couple of years since Pony got taken, but after the party and the revelation neither of us were getting much sleep anymore. Soda had taken off work early to drive the twenty miles out of town to the reformatory school, only to be told that Ponyboy was on restriction and not allowed visitors. He had even taken up drinking coffee, though he still added copious amounts of chocolate milk to it. Gross!

"Hey Pepsi-Cola, shouldn't you be in bed catching up on your beauty sleep? You need it!" I teased and squinting he stuck out his tongue at me, flopping across the couch. I knew he had, had a date last night I heard him get in around 2am.

"Please, I figured it's only fair to cut back for a few years to give you a chance to catch up on my stunningly handsome good looks."

Smirking I asked him how the date went. Since the Sandy incident, Soda never stayed with the same girl for more than a couple dates, I thought he was bad before it was nothing compared to him now. With a lazy smirk and half closed eyes he sighted out. "She had great tits."

"Careful, little buddy." I warned frowning

"I know man, believe me. I know."

A knock came at the door, scaring both of us out of our whits. Nobody knocked on our door, all the guys knew just to walk in. Sitting up strait Soda gave me a panicked look. Nothing good ever came with a knock on the door, especially at 7:30 on a Sunday a deep breath I got off the chair, walking toward the door with a look at Soda, bracing myself for whatever would come.

To my surprise there woman standing there, in a nice business suit; a baby blue color bringing out the blue in her eyes. She was young only a couple years older than me possibly, her blond hair was twisted up in a professional looking knot. Holding her ground she looked me up and down before sticking out her hand.

"Are you Darryl Curtis? I am Nancy Lincoln, Ponyboy's social worker." It's Sunday, was all I could think. She wasn't even supposed to have gotten my messages until tomorrow. My throat closed with a sudden though, could something bad of happened?

"Yes, I am." My voice sounded strained even to me. "Please, come on in. Soda, put a shirt on." As she stepped through the entrance I noticed her glancing around. The place was in no way spotless with six guys going in and out at their leisure, there was no way it could be. Though it could not be called a mess either though, it looked lived in but we all did a good job making sure everything was strait and open, for Johnny.

Soda had still not moved from his position on the couch. You would have to know him to see the fear in his eyes as he looked at her. I watched her looking around studying her surroundings. Clearing my throat, I drew her attention back to me.

"Is there something," something I should know, something I should do to get my kid brother back ,something I could do to fix all of the mistakes I had made since my parents died? "I can help you with?"

Looking at me square in the eye I felt her size me up. She was brave, most of the guys I knew wouldn't even do that. Lord, she was pretty.

"Yes, , is there someplace I may speak with you?" nodding I lead her into the kitchen this seemed to shake Soda out of his stupor as he trotted along behind like a puppy.

"Soda, shirt." I reminded. Muttering under his breath I saw him duck back into his room to grab the for mentioned item.

Refilling my cup of coffee I offered some to Ms. Lincoln. She actually gave a small smile. "Yes, please. That would be quite appreciated; I drove up here from Oklahoma City this morning."

Raising my eyebrows I handed her the cup. "That's quite a drive for this early on a Sunday morning." I stated. She looked at me appraisingly. Soda walked back in, fully clothed and set down at the kitchen table, the kid normally couldn't keep his mouth closed for two seconds just stared, silent, waiting.

"I had to run into the office yesterday and I saw the messages you left for me. I got curious." I still stared, not saying anything.

She sighted looking down at her coffee before looking back up to me. "Look, I just transferred to the office from Huston. When I got here I replaced two full time employee's and got the brunt of their loads dumped on me. I hate to admit it but I was not as involved with all my cases as I should have been." Her gaze fixed firmly on mine. "Ponyboy slipped thru the cracks."

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Soda snapped. I said nothing but my mind was racing. What could she have meant by that?

"How would you describe, your little brother?" she asked suddenly, taking both Soda and I off guard.

"What?" I snapped, the question coming out sharper than I had intended.

"Before, loosening custody, how would you describe Ponyboy as a person? I know how I envisioned him after staying up all night looking at his past school records and reports giver my predecessor. That does not really give you insight however into him as a person." Her gaze was firm, calm, logical. I could appreciate that. This whole conversation seemed surreal.

I made eye contact with Soda. His ever present smile was missing, and I realized that at this monument he looked much older than his eighteen, almost nineteen years. I gave a small nod, Soda seemed to understand as the words gushed out of his mouth.

"Ponyboy was always a really sensitive kid, real quiet. Ever since he was small he was always drawing and daydreaming, I remember he started learning to read with me when I started school! After that we could never get his head out of a book! He was always lost in some day dream, his head lost in the clouds. That kid could just zone out, the real world kinda a secondary concern. Pony's always been real brainy too, always did real good in school. He is shy though, he always seems to find the best in people always willing to go out of his way to help a buddy out." He paused taking a breath, I took the opportunity to speak up as well.

"Kid, was always real motivated, one of the smallest guys on the track team but the best runner, I always though with his brain and those skills, we could get him a free ride through college." leave it too me to bring up the sports.

She had been looking down at her coffee, a thoughtful look on her face. As I finished she looked up meeting eyes first with Soda, then myself. "The Ponyboy Curtis you describe, I have never met. Since, becoming his case worker eight months ago I have seen him three times, two of these times it was in the rehabilitation school for separate offences, and once between the times he was out. I found him a cocky, ill mannered, violent, trouble maker that will probalaly end up in the prison system before he reaches eighteen."

As she spoke Soda had started shaking his head, a red flush slowly starting to spread up his neck and into his cheek. I had only seen him that mad twice before, once when a soc had kicked Pony in the head at a rumble and again when we had been told we would not be allowed visitation with pony until he reached eighteen.

"You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know my brother at all you uppity...,"

"SODA!" I snapped. Though I had similar feelings I was not about to let him sit there and call a woman a bitch.

"Your right, I don't know your brother. I never once looked into his file to see who he was before the bitter young man I met. In the past two years since he was taken into the system the most amount of time he has spent at any one place is the reformatory. In the past nine months he has spend seven of them imprisoned, with still time left on his sentence. He has not completed a grade of school since the 9th, and has multiple arrests on his record."

"That does not sound like our Pony." I told her, the pit of my stomach dropping. "There has got to be some mistake."

"I wish I could tell you there was. I am afraid the mistake is on me. Every case is different and I should have remembered that, I hate to admit that I saw him as just another juvenile delinquent." She paused

" Let's not beat around the bush, as I looked threw his files I found several of your letters stored there. ," he eyes met mine "would you still be interested in reinstating custody of your brother?"

All the air got sucked out of the room, the look are her face told me she wasn't kidding. Soda stated eyes the size of saucers. My throat felt as though it was full of cotton. Was this for real?

"Yes." Was that my voice it sounded so strange, small and gaspy.

"Is this for real?" Soda asked looking like a child who was waiting to hear that Santa was not coming this year.

" Not yet, but under the circumstances I believe it could be. You have good grounds for a custody hearing. Especially now that you're both over eighteen, employed and have no adult criminal charges." Soda winced a little; he had a few minor things for his record for public disturbance and racing. "Also, the fact that under your care Ponyboy had perfect grades, no issues with the law except for the um…" she coughed and blushed a little looking for words.

" The murder." I said blankly

"Yes, well that. No charges were ever pressed however." This seemed too good to be true, all the sleepless nights, crying and praying for this monument and I had never really imagined it possible. I didn't want to get my hopes up.

Looking over at Soda, I mentally sighed, it was too late for him, a huge grin had spread across his face, the light that had been missing from him for the past two years was practically radiating from him. In his eyes Pony was all but home.

"What do I have to do?" I asked leery, waiting for the final ball to drop, proving that this was all a dream.

A real smile spread across her face, golly she was pretty. "I feel responsible for this situation, there is no justified reason for me not fully being aware for Ponyboy's past, and if I had been then perhaps it would have never gotten to this point. I will take care of all the paper work just keep your noses clean and show up to court and I think we can do this." There was something she was leaving out, I knew it but for some reason my mind would not clear enough for me to figure out what. There was a buzzing noise in my brain and I felt numb.

"How soon!" Soda asked, practically jumping up and down.

"His sentence is up in six weeks, if we move right away I believe I can arrange it so he may return here as soon as he is released. That is assuming, everything here is up to standard" she replied narrowing her eyes.

I thought Soda's face was going to split from the smile spreading across it. "What's the twerp in for anyway?" he asked casually

"This time he was arrested for breaking and entering, assault and resisting arrest. The time before, it was for grand theft auto." Soda froze in place, his smile falling slightly, I blinked a couple times. I had figured that whatever he did had not been good but I had never thought of Pony capable for those types of crimes. B&E? Assault? Those were no laughing matter, they were serious.

"No way! Pony? Assault, naw lady, there is no way, it's a mistake. What did he say happened? Pony couldn't hurt a fly."

Ms. Lincoln's face was void, professional, it gave nothing away. " I am afraid you will find a completely different side to your little brother now. He has multiple assault charges on his record, along with public intoxication, disturbing the peace, I am afraid the list goes on. While most of the charges are minor and they multitude of them is becoming disturbing and I am afraid the next time Pony finds himself in court he may not get away with just a few months, he has been remarkably lucky so far as it is."

"What legalities am I going to need to be aware of if I am reinstated custody?" I questioned

"Ponyboy knows the drill by this point, he needs to go see his probation officer once a week, He would be appointed one here in Tulsa. Upon the PO'S personal requirements he would have to follow."

"I just can't imagine Ponyboy doing anything like that." Soda insisted refusing to believe anything bad about his little brother.

"Upon, looking back at his record the charges first started accumulating soon after he first entered the system." She paused biting her lip, I could tell she was trying to decide how much to tell us, "Honestly, after reviewing everything last night, I believe a large part of the problem maybe with his friends, or one specific friend in particular. Most of his arrests were accompanied by his friend Randy Kysen, or as he prefers to be called Slider. They were placed together in Pony's first foster home and they have been as thick as thieves' since."

"That's no excuse, Pony knows better than to allow himself to be lead on by a bad influence. He may not use his head, but he knows right from wrong." I stated. It was true he had grown up around the gang and both Soda and he knew what they could and could not get away with.

"I hope you can remind him of that then. Slider is a thug, he has been in and out of the reformatory since he was twelve years old. Both his father and older brother are incarcerated and he is going straight down the same path and taking Ponyboy with him. He just got transferred from the reformatory to the state prison actually after attempting to kill another boy with a rock, the only reason he failed was because Pony interfered." I tried to absorb this. She was right, the Pony she was describing I didn't know.

She was standing up, preparing to leave. "I strongly believe in the sanctity of family, children should not be removed from the home unless it is in the best interest of the child. This situation was not in the best interest of anyone and I am a afraid an intelligent, talented, young man's life may now be forever ruined. I intend to rectify this mistake ."


	8. Chapter 8

**Do Not Own S.E Hinton's** **_The Outsiders_**

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! I can not tell you how much I appreciate it! **

Chapter 7

_I was sore, and aching from the beating I had taken. I had got in a few good punches myself but there was only so much you could do when ganged up on by five other guys. I smiled to myself as I walked down the deserted country highway. It was so worth it. The foster family I had been with was not a permeate residence, is was more just a hold over so I didn't have to go back to the boys home while they found another place for me to go. The last place hadn't been too bad but they had decided that they did not have the time to properly deal with a "troubled teenage boy" I hadn't even been there a week, and as far as I could tell hadn't done anything to give them an idea I was "troubled" mainly I just thought they were scared of the big bad hood. _

_The temp, family had been nice, they had three teenage boys of their own. As well as Marcy, their dark haired, crystal blue eyed, curvaceous fifteen year old daughter. I had quickly discovered that Soda was right, I suddenly found, Marcy very interesting. I had only been there for less than a week before her brothers caught us. It was them along with Marcy's boyfriend and a cousin that beat the shit out of me. It had been completely worth it but I decided that in concern for my safety I had better high tail it out of there. _

_So I now found myself wondering down the empty highway hoping to catch a ride. I knew it wasn't safe to go back to Tulsa, that's the first place the state would look for me. I knew I would eventually get picked up and return to the system, but I just wanted sometime first. Besides it had been nearly six months since I had seen my brothers, I figured I could hide around Tulsa for a couple days till the coast was clear and I could sneak in and go see Darry and Soda and the rest of the gang before going back to the Boy's home. Besides, Soda would be psyched when I told him I had had my first girl. With all the string of homes as of late I had not been at a residence long enough to write them, and most of the places would flip at the thought of you making a long distance phone call. I knew they would be getting worried about me._

_I could see a van coming down the highway at this point and walking backwards I stuck out a thumb. It was the first vehicle I had seen in a good half hour and it was starting to get dark outside. As it pulled over I groaned. Hippies._

_I hadn't had much experience with hippies I had seen them around preaching their free love and peace bullshit but as to actually interact with them; I had pretty much avoided it. The van pulled over and the back door slid oven, I approached warily._

"_Hey man, where ya'll heading?" I asked the smell of weed assaulting my nose._

"_Where ever the road takes us, man, hop in." I did so. There was a couple people already passed out in there a guy and a girl early twenties by the look of them. The driver was probably pushing thirty as he guided the van back onto the road._

"_Ya well the road taken' ya'll threw Tulsa? That's where I'm headed."_

"_It goes, as it goes." Was his reply. The hell he mean by that?_

_Sighing I lit a cigarette, this was going to be a long ride, and my bruised back gave a painful throb._

_I found myself a little disappointed as we entered the outskirts of Tulsa. It turned out the hippies were actually pretty rad. Paul was the driver and he had read almost every book I had and told me about more that I needed to read. The other two were Micca and Wildflower (though I had my doubts that's what it said on their birth certificates') and they didn't even blink when I had told them my name._

_They had given me a sugar cube a couple miles down the road and told me it would expatiate on my inhibitions. I had no clue what they meant by that but I took it just too be polite. I had tried smoking weed for the first time that morning and my head was still pretty loopy from the experience. I thought what Darry would say if he found out I had smoked pot and shivered, glad that I wasn't planning on going to see them right away._

_We had pulled over in the night and camped out in some field so that it was around 10:30 in the morning when we drove into my neighbor hood, I couldn't help but laugh hysterically to myself at the thought of getting out of this van in front of my house, the look on the boys faces…Of course I knew I couldn't do it then, I just wanted to drive by the check out the area first make sure there was no cops or social workers keeping a look out. _

_I was starting to feel funny though, I kept thinking I saw shapes warping in the shadows and I kept shaking my head, trying to clear the cob webs that were slowly starting to gather there. That weed must have really screwed me up more than I thought. As we approached my house I dropped low so as not to be seen if someone looked in the van Micca seemed to find this amusing as he was rolling around laughing with tears leaking out of his eyes. He kept talking about the lighting bug's around my head. Like I said hippies were weird, nice but loony. _

_By the time we approached my house I was not laughing however. As we drove by I could see all the gang was there, in tank tops with hammers they were laughing and joking with each other. I huge stack of two by fours staked in the yard. I could tell they were building something onto the house. I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach drop, anger, hate ,jealousy pent up and repressed for who knows how long was leaking out. _

"_You want me to stop here Cat?" Paul asked from the driver's seat._

"_Naw man, circle around another couple times. Ya dig." I replied, my eyes glued to the figure of my older brother Soda, his arm wrapped around Johnny's shoulders, messing up his hair. Johnny my best friend, Johnny who had killed a kid to save my life, who I had run away with, lived in a church for a week and been in the fiery hell with. In that moment I hated him._

_As we drove around again Paul slowed I had him stop the car a couple houses away so I could just watch. I don't know how long I set there it could have been a few seconds or hours. The rest of the people in the car must have been able to tell I was reeling inside because for the first time they were completely silent. In this time things started changing, apparitions started forming and disappearing. I talked to Darry, yelled and screamed, I had been replaced, they didn't want me they had replaced me with the spiders! Soda I kept begging crying pleading with him to love me, he was the most important person in the world to me how could he give me away so easily? I even had a heartfelt conversation with Steve and Dally. Dally telling me I needed to get tough; nothing could hurt me if I got tough._

_I don't know when we left the house, or what was real and not. All I know is when sobriety came to me again the hippies were gone and I was laying passed out in an old abandoned barn a worried Slider looking down at me. Why was it Slider was always looking down, at me when I came too?_

"_God, man how are you feeling?" He asked his voice etched with concern._

_Sitting up I felt awful weak, I clutched my head as the room spun, I rolled to the side dry heaving. When was the last time I had eaten?_

"_Huh, I guess that answers my question." I heard him mumble to himself. I heard scuffling and then a bottle of Pepsi was in front of me._

"_You kept asking for a soda for the last two days man, I swear you and your Pepsi addiction." Things were still foggy but I had a feeling I had not been asking for a Pepsi while I had been sick. Slider knew I had older brothers but he did not know any of the details, it normally hurt too much to talk about._

"_What the hell happened man, how did I even get here?" I asked taking a small tester sip of the pop._

"_Hell if I know, you showed up here tripping so hardcore I thought I was going to have to take you to the hospital, I didn't even knew you did drugs. Some hippie girl you were with said they found a letter with my address on it in your pocket so they brought you too me. I had to drag you out here, so the family I'm with didn't freak."_

"_Jeeze, Slider I'm sorry man. I don't know what happened." I groaned out_

" _One hell of a bad trip from what I can tell. Don't even worry about it man, I was planning on getting busted for something soon, these people are total squares even the reformatory is better than this place."_

_I took another long sip, memories where still hazy but there was knot in my stomach and I had a sick feeling, I couldn't tell what was real and what had been the drugs. My brothers…at the mere thought the knot exploded, a stabbing pain bursting and an emotional tidal wave erupted._

_Memories? Hallucinations? They all blended together now. One impression sticking out above everything else. They had Let Me Go. They were happy without me, while I felt miserable the only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that my brothers still wanted me, that they were working to get me back. Now I knew better, they hadn't wanted me back their lives were easier without me and they were doing better without the nuisance tag along kid._

_Yes, they were doing fine and dandy and beneath all the jealousy, hurt, love, and anger, I hated them for it._

Ponyboy was abruptly awoken my a stinging pain across his upper back, shooting up from the cot he had been sleeping in he turned to his attacker, a middle aged guard who was known to be quick with a beating. He stood towering above Pony's cot and had his baton caressing the handle lovingly, a sick, cruel smirk on his face.

"Up and at um boy, you got yer self court today." Surprised, but refusing to show it, Ponyboy set his face in what he hoped has emotionless, uncaring mask. Was the hearing for something he did in here? The fight perchance? Something they found out her did before?

Either way it didn't matter. He was tough, he could take it. Allowed to take a longer shower, Pony then changed into some court cloths, not exactly dressed to the nines; he didn't look to bad clean dress pants, nice button up shirt. His hair had grown out again in the five months he had been in, since the initial haircut so that it curled around his ears. At this length it hid the scar from the shovel pretty well. Though, he thought to himself that he could desperately use some hair grease.

Looking at his reflection he could hardly see the scared fourteen year old boy who had entered a court room for the first time over two years ago now. Sure his features were more defined, a few more scars, once her had gotten cut with a broken beer bottle across the face so as he had a distinctive scar going across his left eyebrow. A burn scar on his left shoulder from another fight at another foster home where he got hit with a hot fire poker. He was taller too, probably a good five or six inches, hell he may even be as tall as Darry now, though still not as buff, at least not yet.

The same guard came for him and cuffing him, lead him to a transport vehicle, as the reformatory gates open, Ponyboy couldn't help but feel as though something big was about to happen, for better…or worse?


End file.
